


anymore

by lagazzraladra



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 18:52:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lagazzraladra/pseuds/lagazzraladra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>months later, you come to know that you would both kill and bleed and die for each other</p>
            </blockquote>





	anymore

**Author's Note:**

> spoilers for the season 3 finale

you wake in the middle of the night.

there’s crust from sleep and tears around your eyes, and with a shaking hand you wipe it away. behind your eyes, you can feel a pounding headache coming on, threatening to block out your vision in spots of vivid color. you can hear the wind licking around the prison, sighing and moaning, and you can hear the cots creaking in their cells; all of them filled with new, living, breathing bodies.

except one.

but if you think too hard about that, you’ll start crying again (and your face will contort into some ugly thing and the tears’ll come down your face hot and wet and angry). so, you take deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. _in_ _, out, in, out, in, out._

it doesn’t work.

she’s still dead.

 

 

when you first find her, that cold november day, she’s tired and wasted and practically hopeless. she’s tired and wasted and practically hopeless, yet she’s still kicking and spitting and clawing and fighting for life. and as willing as she is to live, she is to trust you, even though anybody with half a brain left living in this world should know that trust equals death. you can barely believe how easily she trusts you, because no one has ever trusted you this readily before (not even yourself). yet she does, and she places her life in your hands and vice versa.

she’s the bravest person you’ve ever met.

 

 

_you don’t get to do that. to come into somebody’s life, make them care, and then just check out._

you’re folding into yourself at the memory and you can’t breathe, can’t speak, can’t do anything. you can’t even vomit, because you haven’t eaten in hours; ‘cause you haven’t gotten anything else left to give up.

 

 

months later, you come to know that you would both kill and bleed and die for each other, because you have, because you continue to do so, because you always will.

 

 

you wish that it hadn’t ended like this, but you’re glad that it was her choice in the end. you know that people don’t get the chance to make many of their own choices anymore. still, you want to call what she did selfish and greedy, because you never got the same opportunity. but you know she’s not selfish, she never has been, even when she stayed with the governor. and in the end, that was all about helping other people too.

she’s the most selfless person you’ve ever met.

 

 

when she pulls the trigger, you’re there, hands curling over hers, as gentle as you’ve ever been.

you help her raise the gun (because she’s weak, as weak as she’s ever been), and right before she pulls the trigger, you press your lips to hers and whisper _i_ _'_ _m sorry_ into her mouth, because that’s as close as you’ll ever get to telling her how you really feel.

she dies by her own hand, with a smile on her lips.

 

 

you stay behind with her in that dark room for what feels like an eternity, the air smelling like blood and metal and shit and tears, her body beginning to cool. you wipe the tears and blood from your face with the back of your hand, trying to school your expression into one of utter indifference. you know it’s a lie, and they’ll know it’s a lie as well, but it’s better and easier to swallow than the truth.

you’ll bury the body tomorrow.

 

 

_i’m not going anywhere._


End file.
